


Tragic Victory

by liraeth_archive



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:06:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liraeth_archive/pseuds/liraeth_archive
Summary: Originally Published: Dec 26, 2002





	Tragic Victory

This fanfic was written in 2002 under the penname Aya (Azra) and is being added to AO3 for archiving purposes only.

 

Summary: The Battle at Helm's Deep may have ended in a victory for Man, but it was a tragic day for one who watched his lover die. (Aragorn/Haldir)

 

***

 

It had started on his first visit to Lothlorien, when he was but a child. He had followed behind his father and his sister, wide brown eyes taking in every detail around him, completely entranced. He had grown up in Imladris, and had always considered the Elvish city to be beautiful, but this place was simply stunning. Even as a child, he knew that this was a place of peace, healing, and comfort.

The incident that began it all occurred as he walked through Caras Galadon. Elves wandered about, most of them armed with bow and quiver. Few spared them any attention. Only one seemed at all interested in their party. It was a blond Elf; no different from any other Elf warrior in this place except that he was the most beautiful Elf the small boy had ever seen.

The Elf’s clear blue eyes met his, and the boy stumbled, attention totally focused now on this strange, beautiful man. Not watching the path ahead of him, he tripped on a tree root and fell forward.

His father turned around at the small cry of surprise and sighed. “Come Estel.” He said. “Watch where you are going.”

Estel pushed himself up, brushed the dirt off of his tunic, and glanced back to where the Elf had been. The blond man was gone.

~

Aragorn swung, felt the resistance of his blade as it sliced through flesh and bone. Battle raged around him, the clanking of metal on metal and the screams of the dying and wounded filling the air. The rain pelted down relentlessly, dripping into his eyes and causing the handle of his sword, Narsil, to be slippery and more difficult to manage.

He glanced over at the tall Elf behind him, red cloak letting him stand out in the crowd. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and the two shared a look before returning to the battle.

Another volley of arrows flung overhead, striking the Uruk-hai on the ground below, and more ladders rose in response.

~

It was not until over four decades later that Estel returned to Lothlorien. No longer was he the naïve little boy he had been. He was forty-nine; still young in both Elf and Numenorian years. He had left his home twenty years before, having found out from the man he had called his father that his entire life had been a lie. From there, he had gone to the Dunedain of the North, and to Rohan and Gondor. Now it was time to return home once more.

Lothlorien had been the obvious choice for him to stop in on his journey back to the West. Memories from his first visit, when he had been only six or seven, resurfaced as he walked through the golden Mellyrn. One memory in particular stood out as he walked. Though it had faded somewhat, the vision of the tall Elf with the blue eyes had never left his thoughts.

The slightest ruffling of the leaves was all the warning he had before three Elves stepped forward, surrounding him, each with an arrow notched and aimed at him.

Holding up his hands as a sign that he wouldn’t attack, the Man spoke. “Im Aragorn.” He said.

One of the Elves stepped closer and lowered his bow, moving one hand up to pull back the hood of his cloak that had been hiding his face. “A Aragorn in Dunedain.” He said, voice accented slightly. “Istannen le amen. Im Haldir, o Lorien.”

~

Aragorn didn’t know how long he had been fighting. All he knew was that his mind refused to acknowledge that his arms were tired, and that his heart was beating so fast that it felt as though it would burst. He needed a break, and he knew he wouldn’t get one any time soon.

Another ladder was pushed up from below and a new wave of Uruk-hai came pouring out over the top of the wall. Gimli and Legolas seemed to be enjoying the wave after wave of the foul creatures, having formed a game between the two of them to see who could kill more.

“Two, Master Elf!” The Dwarf looked proud of himself, as he hefted his axe and glanced at the furiously moving blond Elf.

Legolas laughed, slashing with his knives. “I am at seventeen.” He announced.

Laughing slightly, Aragorn half-listened to them calling out numbers back and forth as he mentally formed his own tally. Blue eyes met his from halfway across the Deeping Wall and he mouthed his count. ‘Thirty one.’ He laughed as an expression of surprise appeared on the other Elf’s face.

‘Twenty seven.’ Was mouthed back, accompanied by a small smile. ‘I love you.’ The words were easy to read, even across the distance.

Smiling back, Aragorn returned the words. ‘I love you too.’

Glancing around to make sure Legolas and Gimli did not need his help, he began to fight his way towards the blond Elf he had given his heart to.

~

The city of the Galadrim was simple yet beautiful. It was composed, for the most part, of several Talans built high in the trees. It was there that the three Elves led Aragorn. The Man stayed silent, watching the ground in front of him and thinking.

A light touch on his shoulder sent of a surge of heat through his body at the contact, and he glanced up, only to look straight into the face of the Elf who had introduced himself as Haldir.

“The Lord and Lady will want to see you.” He spoke in the tongue of Men this time, the accent again present and blending the words together to sound almost musical. “Until then, I will take you to a Talan to rest.”

Aragorn nodded to show that he understood, but made no attempt to speak. The Elf pulled away and motioned for him to follow, leading him to the base of one of the trees. A ladder hung down the side, which Haldir grabbed on to and used to pull himself up. The Man followed, moving upwards with only slightly less grace than the blond man had.

Haldir waited until he was sure that the Man was comfortable, then moved towards the ladder to return to his duties. He had already turned around and lowered one leg to the first rung when he made the mistake of looking up. The chocolate-brown eyes that had been watching his every move caught his gaze and he found himself frozen, ensnared by the mere sight of the man before him.

“Will you be all right, left alone here?” He found himself asking.

Aragorn smiled slightly, leaning back against the wall behind him. “Of course.” He said, nodding. “And you? You will be going back to your patrol now?” He kept his voice light, neutral, but in his heart he begged for the ethereal creature before him not to go.

As if sensing the desperate plea for him to stay, Haldir pulled his leg back in and rose up just inside the doorway of the Talan. “I do not have to go.” He said. “My patrol had just ended when my brothers and I found you.”

A spark of hope flared up in the Man’s heart. “Then, please, I would ask that you stay here and keep me company.” He said. He flushed slightly, realizing how desperate he must have seemed.

The blond Elf smiled slightly and took a step towards him. “I have nothing else to do right now.” He said as he sat down on one of the chairs. “So, then. What brings you to Lothlorien?”

~

By now, almost all of the quivers were empty. Still, the occasional arrow was shot down into the crowd of Uruk-hai at the base of the wall. Haldir had long since run out of arrows and had slung his bow over his back. He pushed a strand of hair back behind a pointed ear and blinked water out of his eyes as he blocked yet another blow aimed at his chest and brought his knife up to slash the throat of the attacking creature.

A warm body pressed against his back and he jumped, startled, and turned to see what had touched him. A small sigh of relief came when he recognized the figure. His lover was being pushed back little by little as a new swarm of the foul creatures poured over the top of a newly raised ladder.

“Would you like some help, melethnin?” Aragorn made no outer sign of surprise at the warm, sultry whisper that was breathed into his ear. Still, Haldir knew his love had not realized whom he had backed in to.   
    
The man turned his head only slightly and allowed a small smile to grace his lips. He didn’t answer, however, just stepped back towards the fight and stabbed Narsil through the neck of another creature.

Laughing at a joke that only he seemed to get, Haldir stepped up next to the human and matched him move for move, the two easily pushing their way back through the crowd.

When they reached the edge of the wall, Aragorn gave him a thankful look, then moved away. As he went, he pushed down any ladder he could. Still, more rose in the place of the fallen ones, and more and more Uruk arrived at the top of the wall.

From his place, he could easily glance out over the edge and look down at the horror below. One sight caught his eye, and he frowned slightly. The Uruk-hai were parting, forming a pathway for one single creature. This one was carrying a long torch with a burning white fire at the top. He was easily one of the biggest Uruk-hai there, and was coated in more armor then most of his kind.

A darting glance around showed him that Haldir was too far away. His eyes, however, caught on another blond Elf that was nearby.

“Legolas!” His traveling companion of many months glanced up and followed the Man’s gaze to the bright light below. “Shoot him down, Legolas. Hurry.”

Before he could blink, and arrow had been notched and fired. It struck the creature in the chest, but did nothing except slow him down. Two more arrows found their way into the creature’s body, but neither brought him to the ground. When he was just a few feet from the drainage gate that allowed water to flow out of the fortress, the Uruk-hai jumped.

~

The heat started at his mouth and spread straight down through his body. He wasn’t sure what had happened, who had initiated the kiss. What he did know, however, was that sensation unlike any he had ever felt before was flooding his senses. Lips pressed furiously against his, and Aragorn pushed back, bruising the full red lips and attempting to get even closer to the amazing man before him.

Haldir tilted his head up slightly and groaned as the Man’s tongue ravaged his mouth. His hands rose up and twined themselves around the taller man’s neck, pulling him closer. All rational thought had left his mind.

Aragorn jumped slightly as the cold air of the night hit his skin, and his mind dimly registered that the Elf was frantically undoing the ties of his tunic. With a quick shrug of the shoulders, the article of clothing was removed and fell to the ground. Haldir’s own shirt quickly followed, and the blond gasped as he felt a velvety heat surround one nipple. His head fell back and he groaned as his back pressed into something cold and heard. Neither had realized that they’d been backing up. Now, though, Aragorn stopped his trail of kisses down the flawless chest before him and stood to his full height.

“Come, bainpen.” Haldir flushed slightly at the endearment. The Man took no notice of the pink tinge on the Elf’s cheeks and easily scooped the smaller man into his arms. Ignoring the sound of surprise, he set the beautiful creature down on the single bed in the Talan.

Doing the only thing he could think of at the moment, Haldir reached up and pulled the other man down on top of him, crushing his lips to the other’s equally swollen lips. One perfect hand found it’s way up the Human’s back and threaded its fingers into the long brown hair that fell around them like a curtain.

A small groan escaped Haldir’s mouth as Aragorn pulled away and resumed his path of soft kisses down towards the man’s waist.

~

The explosion rocked the world around him, and Haldir found himself unable to stay on his feet. Around him, others were struggling and failing to stay upright. The Elf braced himself on his knees until the shaking stopped, then pushed himself up and spun around, frantically.

His first thought sent his gaze to Aragorn, who was still lying on the ground a few feet away. His heart almost stopped as he caught sight of the blood dripping from his lover’s forehead. Then, with a groan of pain, the brown eyes opened and the Man slowly pushed himself up.

Haldir moved to help the injured man to his feet. “What happened?” The blond glanced around, trying to figure out exactly what had happened. “What new devilry of Curunir is this?”

Aragorn wiped the blood from his forehead to stop it from dripping into his eye and gave his love a quick glance to check for injuries. “I know not.” He glanced around, his own gaze following the blue-eyed gaze of the man next to him. “The outer wall has been breached. The fortress is falling.”

Nodding, Haldir found his sword lying where it had been dropped and grabbed it. “We’re going to be in a lot of trouble soon.” He said, nodding to the staircase that led up from the lower level. “Things could get bad.”

Neither spoke for a moment, then Aragorn wiped his blade clean on the tunic of a dead soldier and re-sheathed it. “I’ll gather as many men as I can, try and hold them back.” He let his gaze rest on the fair face next to him. “They will come swarming over those walls any moment. Be ready.”

“I will.” The smaller man moved closer, rose up on his toes, and kissed his love’s soft lips gently. “Gwannad, lim. Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar.”

The man returned the kiss, furiously, put as much passion as he could in it. “I will.” He brought one hand up to the unblemished face and ran his thumb along the curve of a cheek. “Be safe, melethnin.”

Haldir nodded quickly and pushed him towards the stairs. “Of course.” He flashed a smile. “Now go. I have to catch up to your count.”

A small laugh, then Aragorn turned and hurried down the stairway.

~

White light flashed across his vision as something inside him was rubbed against. He moaned, the noise quickly absorbed as soft lips covered his own. He tensed up as he felt another finger slide into him and made a small noise.

“Shh, melethron.” Haldir’s voice was soft, gentle, soothing. “You must relax. Come, relax now. That’s right.”

Aragorn forced himself to relax and allowed the second finger entry. The unfamiliar feeling of intrusion was quickly forgotten as pleasure once again swept his body. The Elf withdrew his fingers, slowly, and kissed his lover’s mouth as a moan, this time of loss, escaped.

Haldir shifted slightly, lining himself up with the other man’s puckered entrance. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I cannot wait any longer.” Then he slid in with one quick move.

For a moment, neither moved, their harsh breaths filling up the silence. Then Haldir began to move. At first his movements were slow, hesitant. Then he changed his angle, every thrust aimed at the Human’s prostate.

“Ai, Haldir.” Aragorn let his head fall back, allowed the wave of sensation to overtake him. Every movement from the Elf above him he matched, pushing the other man deeper into himself.

Stars dazzled across his vision when a slim hand fisted around his own throbbing cock. Before he knew it, the combination of being filled to completion and the hand around his leaking shaft brought him over the edge.

With a hoarse scream, he came into his lover’s hand. A split-second later, he was filled with warmth as his love came within him.

~

The cry from the King Theoden to pull back echoed throughout the battlefield. Aragorn glanced up, met the King of Rohan’s eyes. “Pull them back, Aragorn!” The old monarch turned from the wall and moved back towards the other fighters.

A flash of blond from above caught his eye and the future king glanced up to see Haldir fighting along the edge of the wall. The blond moved gracefully, blade nothing more than a flash of silver as he spun it threw the air and killed the Uruk-hai before him

“Haldir!” Aragorn waited until he was sure his lover could hear him before he continued. “Pull back.”

The blond Elf nodded and turned quickly to repeat the call to the soldiers around him. Aragorn watched for a minute more, saw the wave of Uruk that were pushing closer to the unsuspecting Elf, and yelled a warning. His voice was drowned out by the noise around him, and he realized that he was running out of time.

The battle was forgotten immediately. The Man sheathed his sword as he ran, putting every bit of his fading strength into running as fast as he could up the stone stairs. He made it to the top too late.

Haldir was on his knees, eyes unfocused, blood rapidly spreading from the many wounds he’d accumulated. Blue eyes moved in slow motion to meet the frantic brown of the Human several feet away, then rolled up into his head as a sword crashed into his back. Without even a sound of pain, he began to fall backwards, unconsciousness already taking hold of him.

Aragorn’s cry was lost among the yelling and screaming that surrounded him, and he rushed forward, shoving his hunting knife into the Uruk-hai’s chest and pushing the creature out of the way just in time to catch his love in his arms.

The hand that wasn’t holding the dying Elf up moved up to touch a pale cheek. At the soft touch, Haldir’s eyes flickered open and instantly found the pair looking down at him.

“Im meleth le.” Haldir’s voice was so soft that Aragorn had to strain to hear it. He struggled to lift one hand to wipe a tear that slid down the tanned face of his mortal lover. “You must go now.”

The response was immediate. “No. I won’t leave you like this.” A frantic tone had entered the other man’s voice. “I will get you to safety. There are healers here. Everything will be okay.”

Though it obviously hurt to move at all, Haldir struggled to sit up more. “Do not do this.” He coughed, eyes squeezing shut at the pain. When he opened them again, they were full of tears. “Go, now. You have a battle to win. I love you, don’t ever forget that.”

What little light was left in the Elf’s eyes faded and his body went limp in Aragorn’s arms.

“I love you too.” He pressed a kiss to lips that were quickly going cold.

~

The night eventually ended, and dawn rose on the fifth day. Gandalf came, leading Eomer and his troop of two thousand men to finish off the battle. The survivors- only a few dozen Elves and perhaps a third of the men- were celebrating their victory. Those that weren’t celebrating or injured, like Aragorn, spent the day digging graves.

Victory had been won, yes, but as the future King of Gondor laid the bloody and battered body of his lover into the earth, he felt only the tragedy that came with the loss of part of one’s soul.

~


End file.
